


A Man Most Unexpected

by SOMNlARl



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ensemble Cast, First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, mostly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3902575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMNlARl/pseuds/SOMNlARl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>What definitely wasn’t normal was the man beating a shade to death with a staff in the Chantry while the rift pulsed and twisted around him, speeding and slowing nauseatingly just like the one in front of Redcliffe’s gates. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>The mage whirls around, landing one last hit against the demon’s neck and the shade rears back, drawing itself to its full height with an ear-splitting scream before it disintegrates and collapses to the ground. </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Ah, good! You’re finally here!” The man turns to them and scans the group until his gaze lights on the faint green glow flickering in Cillian’s hand. “Now help me close this, would you?”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man Most Unexpected

Cillian watches as Magister Alexius hurries Felix out of the tavern, Fiona trailing after. Once the door slams shut behind them he unfolds the scrap of paper hidden in his palm. 

_Come to the Chantry._

_You are in danger._

Cillian frowns as he crumples the hastily-written note up and shoves it deep in a pocket. 

“Well, that was an incredible waste of time,” he grumbles as he makes his way through the throng of mages packing every inch of the tavern. 

“Awww, c’mon Sunshine, lighten up! It wasn’t so bad. A day in the closest thing this ass-end of Thedas has to a city, an actual tavern...” Varric grins as he hefts Bianca back up over his shoulder. “Could have done with a drink or two but what can you do?” 

“When couldn’t you do with a drink, Varric?” Cillian turns around to fix the dwarf with a pointed look, cracking a small smile. 

“At least now we know what we’re up against with the mages now,” Varric shrugs, a hopeful look on his face as he fingers the coin purse on his belt. “But speaking of which… guilty as charged. You want to take a quick break before we put ourselves in danger? Again.” The smile slips away as Cillian turns on a heel and starts off towards the door. 

“Yeah. Great. Bunch of damned ‘vints,” Bull growls, face darkening in a scowl. “Thought I left those assholes behind in Seheron. But hey, just like old times, killing ‘vints.” His weathered face lightens, eye glinting. “And it’ll make a nice change from nothing but demons. Thanks, boss.”

Cillian snorts as he walks out of the tavern, slamming the blade of his staff into the ground. The crystal lights on impact, shooting warning sparks of lightning and puffs of smoke into the air. 

“Oi, you! Watch where you’re pointing that thing yeah? Some of us don’t want to get turned into… frogs or something! I don’t care if you are Lord Inquisitor Glowy-Hand or whatever, you magic me and I’ll stick an arrow or twenty in you.” 

He turns around to see Sera peeking out from around the Iron Bull’s massive chest. He rolls his eyes but immediately feels a quick pang of guilt for it. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to how terrified she - and most of Thedas - is of magic. It’s still easy for him to forget how different the outside world is from the Circles. For them even the tiniest hints of magic glimmering in the air and the least dangerous spells become a sign of their impending doom. 

“Bunch of poncey mages everywhere,” she complains, fiddling with her bowstring. “Half of Thedas must be missing their curtains, there’s so many friggin’ robes wandering about.”

“I knew we should have approached the templars. I never should have listened to Leliana,” he huffs as he strides purposefully across the courtyard. 

Following Felix’s note seems destined to be yet another waste of time, but Cillian supposes that they might as well follow up since they're already in Redcliffe. He admits to a certain curiosity over what this supposed danger is. _Danger_. He’d laugh if he weren’t so irritated. He’s been in danger ever since the mage uprising, when the Ostwick Circle fell and forced him to flee with the rebels into the wild. And that’s saying nothing of the little matter of the explosion at the Conclave, being captured by the Inquisition and then almost immediately being proclaimed the Herald of the faithful. Nothing in Redcliffe could rise to the level of actual danger after the last few months of his life. 

Still furious with the outcome of his meeting with Magister Gereon Alexius, Cillian threw open the doors of Redcliffe’s Chantry with a clatter only to stop short at what he saw inside. Cillian wasn’t sure who or what he had been expecting to find inside but it certainly wasn’t… _this_. 

“Crap. Another rift.” Bull growls as he pulls his axe over his shoulder and yells out a challenge. “I know I said I’d kill whatever you threw at me boss, but I was sort of hoping for fewer demons. I’ll fight ‘em but one of these days could we maybe go after a high dragon? Or a giant at least. Something not creepy?”

“You would leap to giants and high dragons. Make you a deal, I’ll take you down to the woods, we'll bring Cassandra and we can get swarmed by bears for you to kill. Bears aren't creepy.” Cillian replies dryly. 

It’s not that Cillian was exactly surprised to find a fade rift in the Chantry. Despite his newly-bizarre life he's still distantly aware that no, even with the world in chaos it isn’t normal to find a rift spewing demons in the middle of a Chantry. 

Was anything normal anymore? 

What definitely wasn’t normal was the man beating a shade to death with a staff in the Chantry while the rift pulsed and twisted around him, speeding and slowing nauseatingly just like the one in front of Redcliffe’s gates. 

The mage whirls around, landing one last hit against the demon’s neck and the shade rears back, drawing itself to its full height with an ear-splitting scream before it disintegrates and collapses to the ground. 

“Ah, good! You’re finally here!” The man turns to them and scans the group until his gaze lights on the faint green glow flickering in Cillian’s hand. “Now help me close this, would you?”

The rift shimmers, throwing out puddles of spirit magic which pooled across the stone floor. His hand throbs with each pulse, the pain growing until he has to look down to confirm that, no, his flesh isn’t actually on fire. Finally - _mercifully_ \- the next wave of demons appears and the burning subsides, long enough for Cillian to orient himself and prime a spell between his fingertips. Waves of lightning sheathe him, crackling and glowing as they charge until they arc from one wraith to the next, killing two outright and weakening the third. 

A shot from Sera’s bow rings true and an arrow whizzes past his ear into the last wraith to finish it off; it dissipates into nothing but a faint green shimmering echo of its former self

“Hah! Dead!” Cillian cries triumphantly before frost stepping through the rage demon that has the other mage cornered. Stunned, it slows and he takes advantage of the monster’s state to aim a few quick blasts of ice from his staff at it before Bull runs over and cleaves it in two. 

Cillian turns to examine the stranger. Not from Fereldan clearly, the faint hints of an accent made that clear enough but he can’t quite place its origin. Not Antiva, perhaps Rivain? Or even Nevarra? Skin tanned like fine whiskey, probing light grey eyes and... possibly the most ridiculous mustache he has ever seen on anyone. Cillian swallows back a laugh, stifling it between his fingers. 

He doesn’t know why he wants to reach out and touch it, tease the curling ends between his fingers and…

“Uh, boss? Not to interrupt but none of us can close that thing.”

“Right,” Cillian mutters under his breath as he tears his gaze away from the mage’s face and turns around. Staring up at the rift he raises his marked hand towards it, closes his eyes and focuses, swaying slightly as the mark’s magic rushes out of him. 

With a final deafening crack the rift bursts and collapses; he stumbles with a gasp as the mark flares, clasping his hand in his fist. As the mark settles he sighs, rubbing at it with a thumb until his hand relaxes, the pain settling to a dull, distant throbbing. 

“Fascinating! How does that work exactly?” The mage is at his elbow, grabbing at his marked hand. His fingertips are soft as they close around Cillian’s wrist, a noble’s hands clearly. He pokes a finger at the mark and Cillian flinches, pulling his hand away. 

“You don’t even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers and _boom_! Rift closes.”

“Stop talking like you’re waiting for applause.” Cillian snaps, fixing the other man with a glare which he ignores completely. 

“What? There’s no applause?” The mage quips, a smile curling at the edges of his lips under the curves of his mustache. He rakes a hand through his hair. Rather unnecessarily since it’s still perfect Cillian thinks with a scowl as he imagines the disheveled mess his must be. 

“Who are you?” He asks abruptly, forcing his gaze away from the man’s face. 

“Ah, getting ahead of myself again I see.” The mage replies with a small, clipped bow. “Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?”

“Another ‘vint,” Bull growls, watching the other mage with caution. “Careful with this one boss, the pretty ones are always the worst.”

“Suspicious friends you have here!” Dorian chuckles. “But your large, grey friend is more observant than most of his people. I _am_ very handsome, it’s one of my many virtues.”

“I can see that. Clearly modesty is another,” Cillian says, rolling his eyes, knowing he should have kept his mouth shut.

“Ah, so you do agree that I’m handsome! Of course you would. I knew the moment I saw you that you were a man of discriminating tastes.”

 _Damn_. 

Cillian turns away to gather up a clump of fire essence expelled by the rift for Minaeve. He’s grateful for the opportunity, this way at least he can hide the flush spreading across his cheeks until it settles into what might be explained away as exertion from battle. 

“Magister Alexius was once my mentor. So my assistance should be valuable, as I’m sure you can imagine,” Dorian interjects in the silence, his voice echoing against the walls of the Chantry. 

Cillian stands, palms on his knees to brace himself. “Are you the one who brought us here? I was expecting Felix. Why go through a middleman?”

“Ah, well. My former mentor does not know that I’m in Redcliffe, or in Fereldan, and I’d very much prefer to keep it that way.” Dorian frowns as he looks away. “Felix and I were friends when I worked with his father, we have remained so and perhaps he owed me a favor. He should be on his way. He was to give you the note and then meet us after ditching his father.”

“You must be aware that there’s danger even without my note. What about Alexius stealing the mages right out from under you? The way the rifts seem to defy the laws of time itself? Do you truly think that’s a coincidence?”

“You’re saying Alexius is using time magic?” Cillian says disbelievingly, digging at his temples with his thumbs. “Time magic is hypothetical, no one’s ever made it work.”

“Well, yes. When I was his apprentice it was all hypothetical. Very fascinating and all but we could never get it to work. Alexius has apparently taken his research to exciting new heights since then.”

Everyone reels as a clang comes from across the room and the door to the Chantry creaks open, sunlight spilling into the dark corridor.

“Ah, took you long enough!” Dorian says. “Is he getting suspicious?”

“No, but I shouldn’t have played the illness card.” Felix shakes his head and shrugs, a small smile spreading across his face. “I thought he’d be fussing over me all day.”

He turns to Cillian. “My father’s joined a cult of Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves venatori. And I can tell you one thing: Whatever he’s done for them, he’s done it to get to you.” 

“All this for me? And here I didn’t get Alexius anything,” Cillian raises an eyebrow as he turns back to Dorian with a smirk. 

“Send him a fruit basket. Everyone loves those,” Dorian replies as Cillian snorts, holding back a laugh. Venatori, a town in the middle of the Hinterlands packed full of rebel mages, a Tevinter he can’t keep his eyes off of… this whole situation was ridiculous. 

Dorian’s voice turns serious, all hints of joking smoothed out. “Herald. You know you’re his target. Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage.”

Cillian sighs. If it’s not one thing it’s another; he already has a breach in the sky to deal with and now crazed, obsessed magisters? 

“I can’t stay in Redcliffe,” Dorian says as he opens the door with a loud creak, the noise cutting through Cillian’s thoughts . “But whenever you’re ready to deal with him? I want to be there.” The door slams shut behind him. 

"I don't trust him, boss. He's a 'vint." Bull claps a hand on Cillian's shoulder, nearly knocking him to the ground. "You're not going to let him be there when you deal with the Magister, right?"

Cillian sighs as he pinches at the bridge of his nose. 

If he's being honest he doesn't trust Dorian, he has no real reason to. At the same time he had been fighting off demons and trying to close the rift, had exposed a lot of information about Alexius and seemed horrified at what the Magister had done. And he _was_ extremely handsome. Though that was neither here nor there. "If everything he said was true?" He turns back to look at Bull. "I'm not sure I'm going to have much choice."

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's](http://xhermionedanger.tumblr.com/tagged/cillian+trevelyan) my Cillian tag on tumblr if you're interested. 
> 
>  
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> First meeting of the nerdy boyfriends. There will be smut in the overarching series although probably none in this particular fic. Sorry! I might still change my mind on that though.
> 
> Some dialogue taken directly from in-game.
> 
> tumblr: xhermionedanger. comments make me think maybe i'm not total shit?


End file.
